Passing Over, Passing Out
by HYPERFocused
Summary: Seth has Matzoh balls. Slash


"Oh, fuck, Ryan."  
  
"You know, I was hoping we'd be a lot more naked when you said that."  
  
"I feel like shit."  
  
"Drinking that much will do that to you."  
  
"But it was Manischevitz. Everyone knows you can't get a hangover on that. It's like grape juice."  
  
"It only tastes like grape juice. And Seth, you could probably get drunk on Welch's."  
  
"Very funny. I'd laugh if it didn't hurt so much. Now my head is spinning. Make it stop. How long was I out for, anyway?"  
  
"About an hour. It's your own fault, Seth."  
  
"Oh, God."  
  
"That's what you should have been thinking of, probably, when you decided to swipe your parents Manischevitz."  
  
"I hate when you're right. I hate it even more when you know you're right. It isn't fair. You aren't supposed to get headaches from Passover wine."  
  
"I don't think you're supposed to chug it either."  
  
"Dude, we drank four cups at the seder."  
  
"Four small cups, not plastic tumblers from the last place you had pizza delivered."  
  
"Well, still. It never affected me before. Hmm, this may be why there are so few Jewish alcoholics. Who'd want to repeat this feeling?"  
  
"Seth, I could tell you were affected after the second glass at dinner. You're a lightweight."  
  
"Now you tell me."  
  
"I told you that when you said, "hey, no one will miss the rest of the crappy wine, let's take it, and go to the pool house to play hide the 'coffee cowmen',"  
  
"Afi Komen. It's the piece of Matzoh we take out of the basket at the beginning, and then the kids are supposed to find it later and get a prize."  
  
"Well, how was I supposed to know that? I've never even been to a seder before."  
  
"Yeah, I figured that out. You know, double entendres don't really work so well when the other person doesn't get what's being entendred. Or doubled. Whatever."  
  
"I'll try to read up on my comparative religions. Though I don't think any of them have much to say about sneaking off to make out."  
  
"Good thinking. Though you're right, we didn't cover this in my confirmation class."  
  
"Seth, we were at a holiday dinner with your parents, and your girlfriend, in case you'd forgotten. I wasn't exactly thinking about _us_. I was too busy worrying I'd use the wrong fork, or do something offensive. You can't blame me for not figuring out you were trying to get me hot."  
  
"I thought I was being obvious. Besides, Anna and I are just friends now."  
  
"This week. And how were you being obvious?"  
  
"From the way I was slyly winking at you?"  
  
"I thought your allergies were acting up."  
  
"Oh, that's why you asked if I had something in my eye?"  
  
"Yeah. It looked like you had a tic or something. You should probably stick to the talking. The subtle gestures don't really suit you."  
  
"Um, what about when I put my hand on your thigh?"  
  
"You also banged your head on the table when you dropped your napkin under it. It wasn't exactly sexy. "  
  
"Okay, the napkin was a ruse. I didn't mean to conk my head, though."  
  
"Yes, I guessed that from the blood. Sometimes I worry about you."  
  
"Right now I don't think I could even move an eyebrow, much less make a patented Ryan Atwood move. Not that I'd want to cramp your style or anything..."  
  
"You could never do that."  
  
"What? I have style. I have lots of style. You think it's easy to pull off this vintage T-shirt and khakis look?"  
  
"Actually, I was thinking of pulling off your vintage T-shirt and khakis."  
  
"Now that's more like it."  
  
"I thought your head hurt too much for you to move."  
  
"I'm feeling suddenly revived."  
  
"I thought you might be. Does this mean you'll leave the cheap wine alone from now on?"  
  
"I'll leave the expensive wine alone too, if it makes you happy."  
  
"Good. You're much more entertaining on your own steam."  
  
"A happy Ryan is a generous Ryan. I've learned my lesson."  
  
"You always were a quick study. I just - I had enough of that with Marissa."  
  
"Not to mention your mother. Sorry."  
  
"It's okay. I know you can't control that mouth of yours. Anyhow, you're right."  
  
"I could try to make it up to you. My mouth is good for something, at least. Besides talking, I mean."  
  
"Yes, I'd got that."  
  
"But not now. Now I'm going to die. If I wake up again, then I'm all yours."  
  
"I'll keep that in mind. Try not to barf on my futon, okay?"  
  
"I love you too, Ryan."  
  
"Yeah, me too."


End file.
